


oh, you’re all talk and you’ve been teasing me enough

by kattyshack



Series: snowflakes [15]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 18:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14753924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattyshack/pseuds/kattyshack
Summary: prompt fill (@roguefembot; repost from tumblr): dialogue prompt: “you’re warm” + “it doesn’t bother me”(title from “stay,” by artist vs poet)





	oh, you’re all talk and you’ve been teasing me enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roguefembot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguefembot/gifts).



> a/n: don’t mind me, just reposting drabble requests from tumblr (@obiwan-katnobi / @sansypantsfanfic) to ao3, to bring a little fluff, etc. to the tag bc sometimes ya just need it
> 
> (i MIGHT add to this later... maybe a lil smut... we’ll see!!)

Sansa wakes up with Jon’s curls tickling her nose.

She tries for a stretch, but it’s difficult to move with Jon draped over her middle and his leg hitched across her thighs. He’s got her pinned to the mattress and, frankly, she’s got no desire to move him.

”Mmm.” Jon nuzzles into the crook of her neck. “You’re warm.”

His hair brushes against her lips when she tosses back, “And you’re heavy.”

”Want me to move?” he offers, without giving any actual indication that he plans on doing so. A good thing, too, since she’d just been thinking how much she likes him right where he is.

”No,” she says, perhaps too quickly, so she clears her throat and tries again. “I — it doesn’t bother me.”

Jon hums again, quite content. He plants a quick but firm kiss to her cheek and squeezes her hip, tugging her more snugly against him.

”You’re affectionate in the mornings,” she observes. _A girl could get used to this._

He shrugs. “I’m too comfortable to be self-conscious.”

”And hungover?” she teases.

”Absolutely hungover,” Jon agrees on a sleepy chuckle. “Thanks for sharing your bed.”

”I couldn’t just leave you on the lounge floor.”

”Robb and Theon were going to.”

Sansa toys with one of his curls and points out, “Then you would’ve woken up cuddling with one of them.”

Jon snorts, the warm exhale dancing across her skin.

”Wouldn’t have been the first time. Although I like this much better,” he adds with a smile in his voice. “You’re softer.”

”Oh?” she prompts, amused.

”Mhm. And warmer. Smell better, too.” He nuzzles into her some more. “You always smell good.”

”Oh.” She’s not amused so much anymore; her suddenly skipping heart has taken up all her attention.

Jon’s palm flattens against her stomach, and starts rubbing the strip of exposed skin between her top and sleep shorts.

”This alright?” he murmurs, as his thumb traces circles just beneath her navel.

 _More than_ , she thinks with more enthusiasm than would be considered classy should she let it slip. So in an attempt to keep her cool, she continues to play with his hair (which doesn’t help at all, actually) and asks, “Do you — um, do you want it to be alright?”

To his credit, Jon doesn’t laugh at her. He simply cuddles closer and says, “Mm, I do.”

When she doesn’t say anything — due purely to a thrilling sort of panic, but panic all the same — Jon lifts his head to look at her, to offer a sleepy smile.

”I’m a cheeky bastard in the mornings, too.” His thumb rubs more insistently against her hip bone. “Aided and abetted by the fact that now I’ve spent the night in your bed, I don’t fancy the idea of getting out of it.”

”Oh.” _Third time’s the charm._ Sansa returns his smile. “Well I’m hardly going to kick you out now, am I?”

”I shouldn’t think so, no,” Jon agrees, as his thumb sweeps upwards to trace her waist, and his mouth dips down to catch hers in a first, early-morning kiss.

It’s soft and warm and — at the risk of sounding like a cliché, a romantic, a sap — _perfect_ , and the weight of Jon’s body atop hers doesn’t bother Sansa at all.


End file.
